


Ladies Night

by bruisespristine



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisespristine/pseuds/bruisespristine
Summary: Zoe arranges a spa weekend for the girls, but something could be afoot! When Root disappears and the Machine isn't talking, Shaw, Joss and Zoe have to track down the errant hacker.





	Ladies Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grimorie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimorie/gifts).



“I can’t believe you got Shaw to come!” Zoe greets Root as Shaw scuffs her boot on the plush carpeting, taking a perverse pleasure in leaving a stain on the thick fabric. 

“I was blackmailed,” Shaw grumbles, looking around the large lobby. It’s all tasteful, deliberate displays of wealth, and very little practicality. 

“And bribed. Don’t forget bribed,” Root glances over her shoulder long enough to give Shaw a smouldering, promising look, and Shaw’s shoulders relax minutely. She was bribed. Thoroughly. And she is looking forward to collecting each and every prize Root promised her. 

“I don’t want to know,” Joss saunters over from the check in desk, a brown leather bag swung over one shoulder. “But I am ready to get pampered!”

“That’s why we’re here,” Zoe agrees, taking one of the three cards from Joss’ hand and presenting it to Root with a flourish. “Here’s your key.”

“Where’s mine?” Shaw inquires somewhat sourly, already fairly sure of the answer.  
  
“I only got three rooms, Shaw, sorry. You said, and I quote, ‘I would rather sit naked on a jellyfish.’” Zoe doesn’t look especially sorry.

Shaw does vaguely remember saying that, but Root can be very persuasive when she wants to be. On cue, Root does the smile that always means she’s thinking about unwrapping Shaw like a present, and suddenly Shaw is infinitely less annoyed by the sharing a room section of this ‘ladies only’ weekend Zoe has planned. 

Only grumbling because she feels like she should put up some sort of resistance to the situation, Shaw heads for the elevators, trusting that Root and the others will follow her before it becomes obvious she doesn’t know what floor she’s heading to. 

Fortunately, everyone joins her in the opulently decorated elevator car, mirrored walls creating infinite copies of them disappearing into the distance. Root is wearing a rather short, red dress, and Shaw has a nice view of multiple angles. 

“So, we have a massage booked in the Infinity parlour in half an hour, then the mud pools after that, then I thought I’d rinse off and hit the sauna cave and outdoor glacial rain shower. Then we’re doing a whisky tasting in the country club next door. Tomorrow we can try the multi-jet hot pool with massaging waterfall, and warm saltwater flotation pool...”

“Go back to the whisky part,” Shaw breaks in, perking up.

“Root organised that,” the elevator dings and Zoe leads the way into the corridor, confidently striding down until she finds her room and slips her key into the door.

Root also organised a basket of delicious snacks, and Shaw’s favourite beer in the minifridge, as it turns out, and Shaw is in a much better mood by the time it’s massage o’clock. Massages usually aren’t Shaw’s thing, too much lying face down naked with someone above her makes her antsy—unless it’s in a fun way—but Root has a direct line to an AI who would definitely let them know if anything was afoot, and Shaw is confident she could take Sven the masseuse down even if she’s naked, so she does her best to just enjoy. 

He does have large, incredibly strong hands, and doesn’t go easy on her, and gradually Shaw starts to enjoy the whole thing, so when Root says, “what?” it breaks Shaw out of a comfortable, mushy half doze. 

“What’s going on?” Joss inquires from Root’s far side. 

Shaw lifts her head enough to see that Root is propped on her elbow, her head cocked with the faraway expression she gets when the Machine is relaying information, and then she sighs and drops her head back to the massage bed. 

“I just.. Uh... remembered some work things I forgot to do. That I should go and do.” Root sounds very annoyed, almost too annoyed, and Shaw feels a bit like she should ask if she should help, but also Sven has just gotten to the knot of scar tissue over her shoulderblade that always aches, and he’s doing something magical. 

“S’later,” it comes out a bit slurred. Root snorts, rustles, and ghosts her hand over Shaw’s foot on her way out of the room.

 

***

Root still isn’t back by the time the massage is done, and a very noodly Shaw slithers into the mud pool, only slightly annoyed that Root hasn’t checked in. Sometimes you’re busy, and stuff like texting your significant antagonist isn’t super straightforward, she gets that. But I mean, maybe the Machine could pick up the slack?

 

***

An hour later, when they get out of the pool and shower off, there’s still no contact on any of their cellphones. 

“Where is she?” Shaw asks a security camera sticking out of the faux rock surroundings, but there’s no reply. 

“It’s a small resort,” Zoe points out, picking up her towel, “she can’t have gone far.” 

“We don’t even know what she went to take care of,” Joss replies, picking her way barefooted over to her locker.

“It can’t have been anything serious or she would have told me to come.” Shaw towels off angrily, the soft plush fabric is annoyingly gentle. 

“You did look prettttty happy getting pummeled by that behemoth,” Zoe grins at her, “I don’t know if I’d have been brave enough to tell you you had to take a break.”

Shaw just growls, and pulls on her boyshorts before struggling damply into her black jeans. Both Zoe and Joss are wearing cozy looking sweatpants, which is even more irritating.

“Are you not answering because you don’t know, or something more sinister,” Shaw demands of her cellphone, getting an odd look from an older lady as she shuffles in to join the three women in the changing room. 

Finally, the screen lights up, //Analogue Interface is safe //

“What the shit does that mean?” Shaw holds the cell up so the Machine can get a good look at her scowling face through the camera. 

//She does not want to spoil your weekend away // The Machine responds after a beat.

“Well too fucking late,” Shaw practically yells it, the tension back in her shoulder already, “I only came to this stupid place because she was going to be here, and now she’s wandered off, is probably in trouble, and I’m supposed to what, twiddle my thumbs?” 

// Your whisky tasting begins in two hours, she will endeavor to join you there // 

Shaw thinks she does a very good job not throwing the phone across the room, actually. 

 

***

“We can look for her,” Joss points out, once they’re lying on wooden benches in the sauna cave, and the steam is filling the room and Shaw’s lungs with wet heat.

She thinks about it for a minute, thinks about how annoyed she is and how much less annoying—or annoying in a different way, at least, it would be if Root was here.

“Yeah, alright.” 

 

***

 

They start with the obvious, asking the massage receptionist which direction Root went in after she left the session. The answer—to the elevator—isn’t especially helpful, but Zoe points out Root would probably want to shower the oil off her body before heading out for ‘work’ if it wasn’t an emergency, so they head upstairs. 

In the room, a towel lies discarded on the bathroom floor, lending weight to Zoe’s theory. Root’s computer is on the desk, but with the Machine in her ear that doesn’t mean much. 

“Hey, she has the camera feeds up,” Joss has waggled the mouse to bring the screen to life, and sure enough, Root’s computer is scrolling through various resort locations. 

“Probably to watch Shaw melting into mush,” Zoe smirks, making Shaw growl under her breath as she pads over to join Joss.

There’s no sign of Root on any of the live screens, though, and the Machine doesn’t helpfully pipe up. “Can you go back in time?” Zoe asks, and Shaw and Joss both reach for the mouse at the same time. The computer end of things has been almost exclusively Root and Harry’s domain for the last few years, but Shaw can still hold her own.

Joss bows to Shaw’s set jaw and Shaw rapidly clicks through into the firewalls that block the cloud stored video files. Ha, even without the Machine helping out she gets through in less than ten minutes, and then finds the camera outside the massage parlour.

Meanwhile, Zoe and Joss investigate the room further, which for some reason includes making rum and cokes from the minibar. Shaw does take the beer Joss offers, though.

Zoe and Joss gather round the monitor with Shaw when she grunts in satisfaction, finding Root on the camera exiting the parlour. In classic Root style, she winks at the surveillance—whether at the Machine or at Shaw, guessing that she’d be looking at this later, is a mystery. 

Shaw zooms through the footage to pick Root up on the next camera, and the next, tracking her up to their room and then out of it again about twenty minutes later. Root saunters down the corridor dragging a large duffle bag that is clearly very heavy. It’s the sort of duffle that might have a human inside it, but Shaw swears they didn’t pack any corpses...

“So.. someone broke into your room and Root went to take them out?” Joss hazards.

“At least she looks fine,” Zoe adds on, leaning over to click out of the selected footage and choose the elevator as Root drags her large luggage inside. 

“It does look suspiciously like a body,” Shaw agrees, speeding up the recording so that Root moves inhumanely fast out of the elevator, into the lobby, past a bellhop who clearly offers to help her with her package, and then into the outside world.

The spa has a large, spacious circular driveway, with cameras above the doors, but all those tell the team is that Root doesn’t get picked up by anyone, as she continues to hump her heavy load awkwardly down the gravel road. 

“It’s very ... rigid.” Joss taps at the screen over the bag as Root wangles it further and further away from the camera.

“That’s what she said,” Shaw half smirks before remembering Root is missing and that something is Afoot. 

Beside her, Zoe snorts, and then Root turns off the driveway into the bushy forest, somewhere that doesn’t even look like a path.

Rapidly, Shaw memorises the spot, and then straightens up, “well, we’re out of cameras so I’m going after her. God knows what she’s doing, but she should have called in by now.”

“Alright, give me ten minutes to change out of my spa gear and I’ll meet you in the lobby,” Joss sighs, and Shaw scowls.

“You don’t have to come. Stay, enjoy your... mud.” The Machine hasn’t said anything, so Root is probably fine and doesn’t need any help, or... is dead and the Machine doesn’t know how to tell Shaw. But either way, they haven’t been called in for backup, and Shaw can move faster on her own anyway.

“We’d just be worried the whole time,” Zoe grumbles, heading for the door. “But I want a do over on the spa weekend when we find her. Everyone call in sick for Monday.”

“I’m a vigilante, Zoe,” Shaw rolls her eyes at the idea of calling in sick, and stomps to her bag to find her most appropriate woodsgoing outfit and change out of her damp jeans. 

***

Dressed in an identical outfit, but drier, she heads down to the lobby, finger combing her tangled hair back into a pony as she goes. Zoe is not wearing anything even remotely appropriate for traipsing, her brand new, blindingly white sneakers are going to be ruined in minutes. Joss is sporting a fetching tracksuit that looks more like she’s going for a run than a hunt, but Shaw can see the heavy line of her holster under her arm.

The route Root took is clearer in person than it was on the security footage, primarily because whatever Root was dragging has left a clear, beaten path for them to follow. 

Shaw leads the way, ignoring the brambles dragging at her legs and arms. It’s getting dark, bruising purple clouds streaked with neon pink hiding the evening sunlight, making it harder to see in the forest. 

There’s nothing ahead that Shaw can see, but at least they’re not in danger of losing the trail.

They’ve gone about three kilometers when the woods open out into fields, and a dark smear resolves itself into a  building. A barn, tall and a little ramshackle, with an orange glow coming from under the door. 

Shaw’s breath speeds up slightly, and she holds her hand up in a fist to stop the others. Joss slips up to her side, points left, then front. Shaw nods, slinking over the ground towards the barn door. Behind them, Zoe shifts back into the treeline.

There’s an odd thumping coming from inside, followed by the unmistakeable sound of Root’s voice, “well,  _ fuck you too, _ you little asshole,” with pure venom streaking the words. 

Shaw races over the last few yards, presses herself against the sliding door, just able to see inside through the narrow crack. 

She’s expecting to see Root surrounded by villains, trapped by goons, perhaps. She’s ready to tear the Machine a new one for not telling Shaw what’s going on, as soon as she’s helped Root out of whatever jam the idiot’s gotten herself into, of course. 

But all she sees through the slender gap is Root, one hand held awkwardly across her chest, sat on the floor. In front of her, a pile of leather and clasps, a metal bar that looks vaguely familiar. No enemies in sight. 

Throwing caution to the wind, Shaw yanks the door open and storms in, scanning the large, hay-scented space.

It’s immediately clear that Root is alone, with whatever contraption she’s battling. 

She looks up, and pulls a face. “Dammit. Hi, sweetie.”   
  
“What the fuck, Root?” Shaw inquires, striding over towards the mess, which resolves itself as she gets closer. That’s definitely a spreader bar, and those are chains. Leather strips, metal o-rings. “Is that a sex swing?”

“Surprise?” Root wrinkles her nose, and holds out her left hand. The index finger is purple and swollen. “It’s much harder to assemble with one hand.”

“Everything okay?” Joss calls from outside the barn, and Shaw groans. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. Root’s just being a weirdo.” But she’s already taking Root’s injured hand carefully in hers and inspecting the injury. It looks like a pinch, like maybe Root slammed it in the sliding door, and Root hisses when she gently palpates it. 

“Ookay,” Joss drawls, suddenly leaning in the doorway, and Zoe looms out of the shadows to join her. “Way to scare the shit out of us, Root.”

“Well, the Machine said it would only take me an hour and a half.” Root sounds quite mournful, and Shaw can’t help but stroke the back of her hand lightly. “And then I shut my finger in one of these stupid vice-hooks.” 

“Did you... bring a sex swing to the spa weekend I organised?” Zoe sounds half impressed, half annoyed. 

“Naw. the Machine stole it for me. It was supposed to be our anniversary present,” Root lazily kicks the straps into even more of a tangled mess, “but whoever it belonged to didn’t keep the instructions.”

Shaw can’t help but snort a soft half-laugh. “A genius who can’t figure out slot A from tab B.”

“Hey!” Root clambers to her feet, leaving her hand in Shaw’s but careful not to put any weight on it as she gets up. “I know my slots, thank you very much.”

Shaw rolls her eyes. “Well, better luck next time. Whisky tasting started ten minutes ago. You coming?” 

“The plan was we’d both be,” Root mutters under her breath, grouchily. She’s so obviously saddened by the failure of her plan that Shaw lets her keep their hands together as they walk back towards the night. 

“Get the Machine to order a new one and send it to my place,” she murmurs, and is rewarded by a small grin tugging at the corner of Root’s mouth. “Now c’mon, speed it up. I don’t wanna miss the good stuff.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it didn't get very plotty, grimorie. I had big plans but life got in the way. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Happy exchange of interest!


End file.
